


food fight

by thewarlocksbitch



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, TMI - Fandom
Genre: Malec, Malec Fluff, malec parentage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:37:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3983506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewarlocksbitch/pseuds/thewarlocksbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>magnus and alec being “attacked” by ‘little one’ (their warlock baby!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	food fight

**Author's Note:**

> all characters belong to CC

“Oh no,” came Alec’s voice, sounding resigned and strained, “Magnus, he’s doing it again.” 

Magnus dropped his book to the couch, stood, and padded towards the kitchen, rubbing at his weary eyes. He hadn’t been really reading anyways. 

Alec stood in the middle of the kitchen in only flannel pajama pants, his bare skin covered in runes, snowflake scars, and spots of food; spinach clumped in his tangled hair, something orange was smudged under his eyes like badly applied makeup, and applesauce dripped down his chest and forearms. 

He held a wooden spoon in front of him like a white flag, eyes wary but playful as he looked at his son, his cheeks colored with flush. 

Max sat in his high chair, kicking his legs and giggling down at his destroyed plate and food-caked hands. 

Magnus huffed out a laugh, and his son looked up at him, cheeks dimpling adorably as he dug his chubby hands into his bowl for something to throw. 

He came up with a slice of banana and flung it at Magnus, a happy peal of laughter escaping his lips. 

Magnus quickly waved a finger, sending blue sparks flying and the banana dropping to the floor with a soft thump. 

Max clapped his hands, his whole body bouncing. “Again! Again!” 

“You’re only encouraging him-” Alec started, exasperated. 

Magnus looked at Alec and clucked sympathetically. “Darling Alexander,” he said, wiping something brown off of Alec’s eyebrow. “I’ve always been bold with my fashion, but I’m not about to let myself be painted with baby food. No matter how adorable it may look on you.” 

Alec dropped his spoon in surrender and looked down at himself, then smiled and shook his head, making applesauce fly in all directions.  
“It is… colorful.” 

“A sight better than most of your sweaters.” Magnus said, just as a clump of spinach landed on his cheek. 

“You deserved that.” Alec told him, the skin at the sides of his eyes crinkling, his lips pulling up at the corners. 

“Oh, I am _wounded._ “ Magnus said, looking to his son and grinning at the boy’s gleeful food stained face. “You little monster!” he raised his hands and made blue sparks crackle between his splayed fingers and move in the air around Max’s head. 

The blue tendrils curled around his small horns and flew in front of his eyes, making them reflect the electric light. Max squealed in delight, twisting in his chair and trying to catch at the light as it shifted around him, taking the forms of running horses and spinning arrows and zooming cars. 

“You’re rewarding him for being deviant…” Alec said, but he had leaned back against the counter, his eyes full of love and light as he watched Magnus and their son. 

“You know you do it, too.” Magnus chided. 

Alec rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything; it was the truth. Neither of them could ever scold their son, no matter how hard they tried.  
They always ended up laughing or playing a game or joining in the rule breaking; throwing toys, spilling paint, eating all the cookies. It was much easier than saying no. 

Magnus dropped his magic from the air and picked Max up from his chair. He smoothed back his hair and straightened his stained t-shirt. 

“I just can’t help it,” Alec said, crossing the room to lean against Magnus’s shoulder and mouth at Max’s fingers, making him squeal and pull his hands away. 

Alec smiled tiredly, his eyelids fluttering. Max yanked gently on his hair. “Daddy wants a bedtime story!” He yelled excitedly, patting Magnus’s cheek with his other hand. 

“Yes, Max, daddy would love a bedtime story, he would love one very much.” Alec murmured, wrapping an arm around Magnus’s torso and leaning heavily against him. 

“You tell the best stories,” Alec told him. 

“Okay, but first,” Magnus said, kissing his sons sticky cheek and tickling his tummy. “ _You_ are getting a bath.” He eyed Alec, who was trying to pull something out of his tangled hair. 

“You, too.” He said, grinning.  
“You look like you rolled around in a dumpster.” 

Alec flung spinach at him. 


End file.
